That was a bizarre conversation with my sister.
She had thatI know something you don’t knowtone in her voice the whole time we were talking. My sister, one of the few people left on planet Earth I adored, was shit at keeping secrets. Always had been.
But I couldn’t imagine what she was hiding up her sleeve.
Truth was, I was expecting her and my parents to be irritated with me because I’d chosen not to spend Thanksgiving with my family in Florida this year.
Several years ago, I’d bought my parents their ideal dream retirement home in Naples, and because Rebecca liked to be close to them, I’d bought her a home there as well. She’d balked at first, claiming she didn’t need my money, my help, my interference in her life, etc.
Hell, I didn’tneedmy money. I simply had it, so there was no point in not using it.
I knew my parents had been disappointed when I told them I wasn’t coming. I’d used all the standard excuses of being too busy at work, and I’d promised them I would spend Christmas in Florida with them, but still they sensed something was off with me.
The first year after I’d lost Allison, I’d eschewed the holidays completely. The second year, I’d grudgingly visited them over Thanksgiving but had put my foot down about Christmas. However, last year, I’d spent both holidays with them to the point where maybe they had thought I’d turned some kind of grief corner.
I hadn’t.
They probably thought I was backsliding.
Except, Rebecca hadn’t been irritated at all. She’d said she understood and was glad that at least I was working hard again.Again.
Maybe a sign that I was, what? Healing?
Healing would mean I had somehow forgiven myself for causing the death of my soulmate.
I hadn’t. I couldn’t. It would be disrespectful to Allison.
“Hey, E.G., are we getting out early today?”
Distracted from my thoughts, I turned away from the window and faced Anna.
She was in her usual business attire, but today she’d worn her hair loose down around her shoulders instead of in a clip. I wondered if there was a reason for that. Was she planning on going out after work? The Wednesday before Thanksgiving was often a big bar night out. It would make sense for her to want to go out.
I hadn’t asked her anything about her social life since the club incident. In fact, I’d locked down all aberrant thoughts I might have had about her.
The glass I’d broken by having…thoughts…about her, was now glued back together and it could hold water just fine. As long as I maintained ruthless control over myself.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She stepped further into my office. “Are we closing early?”
“Why would we do that?”
“It’s a thing. Almost all the other offices in the building are closing early to get a head start on the holiday.”
“You need to get a head start on the holiday?”
She rolled her eyes. Something she hadn’t done in a while. “No, I guess not. I just like the thought of it, you know? You come into work and you think you’re going to be here until six or seven, but then suddenly you say,hey, we’re closing early for the holidaysand I get three hours of my life back I otherwise wouldn’t have.”
Fascinating. “What would you do with those three hours of life?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe go see a movie?”
“You’re saying I should pay you to skip out and go see a movie?”
She beamed. “I know. That’s the best part. It’s just free time you’re still paying me for. Hey, I didn’t make this up. It’s a thing. Claire is getting out at noon today.”
Whats-her-face. I knew their relationship had survived the incident at the club because they’d had lunch a few times since. Apparently, Claire had been extremely sorry for putting Anna in that situation. I also knew Flowers was still a little wary of their friendship going beyond lunch. It was because she had a good head on her shoulders and Claire was a flake.
